Tintin and the Order of Hades
by AkuRoku18
Summary: It's October 11, 1940. Tintin travels to Greece to write on the impending attack from the Italians. While there, he gets involved in something much worse. Rated T. Read and Review, please! :D
1. Prologue

**Me: Hello, people! :D**

**Tintin: ...huh. Where am I? :O**

**Me: Welcome, Tintin! This is the wonderful world of FANFICTION! :D**

**Tintin: Uh...what's a fan-fiction? -_-**

**Me: Well, it's when- nevermind, about that! What matters is that you're here! :)**

**Tintin: Hmm. I guess I am. :I**

**Me: Yeah! Sooo...do a disclaimer! :D**

**Tintin: A what? What the heck's a disclaimer? O_o**

**Me: Ugh. Fine. Watch me and learn from this experience, cos you're doing the next one. :)**

**Tintin: Okay... :I  
><strong>

**Me: I do not own Tintin at ALL! Tintin belongs to Herge, and I'm not making a profit off of this fic either! :D**

**Tintin: Alright. I get it now! :)**

**Me: Awesome! Now, you all go read some fanfiction! :D  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Tintin and the Order of Hades<strong>

**Prologue**

**October 11, 1940**

"You see him? That's the guy!" a man hissed to his companion. They were watching the passengers of Flight - 1813 to Greece come off the plane.

"Where? Which person is it?" the other whispered back. The first man sighed in exasperation.

"Poutanas yie! Weren't you paying attention at all? Abaddon specifically told us to capture _him_! Or can't you remember?" He pointed out the window at a short man, probably in his early twenties, with a funny tuft of hair. He had a small white dog following him closely.

"Oh. Well…I…just wasn't looking at the right guy, is all! Calm down." He sounded calm, but under his breath he muttered, "Erra eh korakas!"

The first man snorted and said, "Oh, well. We should go meet our friend, shall we?" The second one nodded and they lumbered off.

* * *

><p>"Nice country, eh, Snowy?" Tintin said cheerfully. He'd been sent by <em>Le Petit Vingtieme <em> to write a story on the increasing pressure of Italian troops on the Greek border. He was to get a statement from Ioannis Metaxas, the dictator of Greece, himself. Snowy barked in agreement. The two boarded a bus to take them into Athens. Little did they know, the eyes of the enemy were already upon them…

* * *

><p>"Apó ton kerav̱nó tou Día! You imbeciles!" a man roared. He was yelling at the two thugs sent to capture Tintin at the airport. "Why would you let him get away?"<p>

"H-he got on a bus with a crowd, a-and it would've been unwise t-t-to challenge him…" the first man stuttered with fear.

The second man nodded eagerly and said, "Y-yes! We figured if we let him enjoy his freedom a bit, then w-we-!" His statement was cut off with a bang. The leader pulled out his gun and shot his henchman in the chest. The man crumpled to the floor. His companion almost jumped 5-feet in the air.

"Now!" the leader pointed his gun at the other man and said menacingly, "You will bring me Tintin! You understand?"

"Y-yes, s-s-sir!"

"If you fail, you will suffer a thousand life-times in Tatarus!"

"Y-yes, master Abaddon! A-anything you wish!" The man bowed quickly and ran out of the room, shouting in rapid Greek.

Abaddon chuckled cruelly, "Now, Tintin, my friend…you will regret coming to Greece, poking your nose where it doesn't belong!"


	2. Chapter 1

**Me: Hello again! :D**

**Tintin: Oh. You're all here again, huh? :I**

**Me: Ah, don't mind him! He's just pissed at me cos I like to beat him up~! 8D**

**Tintin: W-well, yes! Wouldn't you be angry if I beat you up all the time? :(**

**Me: Ohhh, no~! I would like that very much... *crazy fangirl rage* 8D**

**Tintin: Great snakes! I don't want to know what you're thinking about... D:**

**Me: *ahem* Anyway, uh... Tintin! Why don't you do the disclaimer? :D**

**Tintin: Sure. AkuRoku18 doesn't own The Adventures of Tintin, nor is she making a profit. :)**

**Me: Thank you! Now you all enjoy some fanfiction and beating up the poor Quiffy-one! 8D**

**Tintin: ...Quiffy-one? D:  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**October 12, 1940  
><strong>

"Ahh, don't you just love this weather, Snowy?" Tintin asked. He was standing on the balcony of his hotel room, which had a superb view of the sea. The sky was clear and just the slightest breeze made the weather just perfect. However, Snowy yipped agitatedly and tried to curl up back into a cozy ball to get more sleep. "C'mon, lazy bones. Get up and smell that marvelous sea air!" said Tintin enthusiastically. Snowy huffed in annoyance, but got up to join his master on the balcony. "There, see? It isn't so bad. It wakes you right up, doesn't it?" Snowy gave Tintin the _sure-whatever-let's-get-some-food _look. Tintin seemed to understand and said, "Okay. I am pretty hungry myself." The reporter hastily dressed himself and went to the elevator.

"Where to, sir?" the bellboy asked in a heavy Greek accent.

"The bottom floor, please," Tintin replied, stepping into the elevator with Snowy following close behind him. The bellboy nodded. Soon, they were on the bottom floor. Tintin thanked the bellboy and walked out of the hotel. He'd heard of a good restaurant not very far from where he was staying.

When he was outside, a man wearing an expensive looking suit standing in front of an expensive looking car said, "Your car, Mr. Tintin."

"Hmm? A car? What for?" Tintin asked.

The man chuckled and said, "Yes, Mr. Tintin. The car Master Metaxas sent for you, sir."

"Oh, that was kind of him. I'll give him my regards," said Tintin, walking into the car. Snowy leaped after him before the chauffeur closed the door.

"Where to, sir?" the chauffer called over his shoulder.

"Oh! Er…I heard of a restaurant that was near here," replied Tintin.

"Ah, yes, sir. The 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.' A very good choice, sir," the chauffer said, and began to drive. When he stopped, the car was parked in front of a very fancy looking restaurant with words 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' in a pretty looking cursive scrawl.

Tintin murmured, "Wow. This looks like a really extravagant place, huh, Snowy?" The little white dog yipped. "Er, chauffer? I'm not sure this was the restaurant I read about…I don't believe I have enough euros…"

"Do not worry yourself, sir. Master Metaxas has all of your funds covered, sir," the chauffer said, stepping out of the car and opening Tintin's door. The reporter came out and dug around in his pockets to find some spare change. He tipped the chauffer and walked into the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.'

As soon as Tintin came in the restaurant, a waitress immediately strode over to the young reporter and said, "Welcome, Mr. Tintin. Your seat has been prepared. Follow me, please." Even though he was slightly appalled, Tintin followed the waitress. He was led into a private room on the top floor where there was a small table next to a large window. "Your seat, sir."

"O-oh! Thank you very much," Tintin said. The lady pulled out his chair and he sat.

"What will you have this fine morning, Mr. Tintin?" asked the waitress, handing Tintin a menu.

Tintin looked at the menu and said, "Well, coffee to drink, and omeletta me tiri to eat, please." The waitress bowed and left the room. "Great snakes, Snowy! A private room, all to ourselves! Mr. Metaxas is a generous man, isn't he?" Snowy barked in approval. They'd even been kind enough to let Snowy come into the place.

A short time later, the same waitress came back with Tintin's coffee and food. "Here is your food, sir."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Snowy barked at Tintin. He nodded and said, "Sure, Snowy. We should go get our interview from Mr. Metaxas now." He stood up and went to the door, Snowy trotting behind him.<p>

The waitress bowed and said, "We hope to see you soon, Mr. Tintin."

"Yes. Thank you very much," Tintin replied. He walked outside and the same chauffer from earlier in the morning.

"Hello, again, Mr. Tintin. Master Metaxas sends for you, sir," the chauffer said while bowing. He opened the back door to the car and gestured for Tintin to get in.

"Ah, great!" said Tintin. He stepped into the car and it drove off. Eventually, they arrived at a huge, old looking building.

The chauffer, again, was the first one out of the car and instantly opened Tintin's door. He said, "This is the parliamentary building, where Master Metaxas resides."

"Parliamentary? Isn't Greece a dictatorship?" asked Tintin in curiosity.

"Ah, yes, sir. However, we still prefer to call this the parliamentary building, sir," the chauffer replied. "Now, if you please, allow me to show you to Master Metaxas." Tintin was led inside the stone marvel. Inside, the walls were decorated with paintings of ancient Greece, important battles, and old rulers.

Several flights of stairs later, Tintin and Snowy were outside of Ioannis Metaxas's room. At the door were two guards, both carrying M1911 pistols and truncheons at their sides. The chauffer whispered something to the guard on the right side of the door. The guard nodded and said with a thick Greek accent, "Master Metaxas sees you now." The left hand guard opened the door and showed Tintin in.

"Master Metaxas. The reporter here to see you, sir," the guard muttered. The man sitting at his desk looked up, gave the guard a look to leave, and went back to his paperwork. The guard grumbled something or other and shut the door behind Tintin.

After the guard had left the room, the man at the desk looked up again and asked quickly, "You are…Tintin, correct? Have a seat."

"Ah, thank you, sir," Tintin said politely; he tried his best to be polite. "Mr. Metaxas –"

Metaxas coughed and said strictly, "I prefer either 'Sir' Metaxas, or 'Führer' Metaxas, thank you."

"Er, right. Forgive me, sir."

"Apology accepted."

Tintin sighed. _This is going to be a _**_long_** _interview… _"Führer Metaxas, I'd like to start, if you may, with the increasing threat of the Italian troops on Greece's border."

"Hmph. I don't know what you have heard in Austria, dear boy—"

"Belgium, sir."

Metaxas's eyebrow twitched and he continued in an angrier tone, "Right, yes, Belgium. Whatever the country you hail from, you have heard nothing but lies! There is no danger from the pasta-loving anói̱toi here!"

"Er…yes, but from even your fellow Greek citizens, I have heard the rumors of more and more Italian battalions on the bor—"

"Sio̱pí̱! There is no danger from those white flag-waving treloús! I don't know what anyone has told you, but they are all liars!"

"But, sir! Surely you must see…" But Tintin stopped himself. He knew there was no further arguing with Ioannis. "Right you are, sir. But, have you actually sent anyone to investigate these rumors?"

"Tch! They are rumors, they do not need investigating! A bunch of propaganda conjured up by some frightened elaiokalliergi̱tés, nothing more!" Metaxas insisted, with a hint of a snarl coming into his voice.

"Right. But do these, er… 'olive farmers' have any validity in their claims? Or has the government not done anything about—"

This was when Metaxas slammed his fist on his desk, sending papers and ink bottles flying, and the noise made Snowy leap about 5 feet in the air (he was sleeping almost peacefully). Metaxas roared, "Sio̱pí̱, na sas xegelásei! I have told you! I deny everything about the Italians on our borders! Af̱tó eínai éna pséma! You hear me? IT IS A LIE!"

Tintin stood abruptly and practically shouted, "Very well! With that, I bid you GOOD DAY, SIR!" He whirled around and stormed out the door. Snowy growled at Ioannis and loped after his master. "Confound him! An interview is when you answer questions, not explode in the reporter's face! "

The right hand guard stopped Tintin on his way out and asked, "What happened? Master Metaxas sounds angry…"

"Let's say I'm not collecting any further comments from 'Führer' Ioannis Metaxas," Tintin said with annoyance. "Come on, Snowy." The little white dog huffed with the same feeling as his master: Ioannis Metaxas was agrivating!

* * *

><p>Later on, Tintin was walking back to his hotel. He had refused the chauffer's offer to drive him back. "I say, Snowy, this doesn't look like the right way back…" said a puzzled Tintin. Snowy whimpered. "Crumbs! Now I've gone and lost the both of us! Great thinking back there, Tintin…" A car drove past Tintin, coasted for about 10 meters, and came to a stop. Three men got out and began to follow the reporter. Tintin noticed and began to walk faster.<p>

The three men caught up to the young reporter. One of them asked, "Eíste Tintin?"

"Excuse me?"

"He asked, 'Are you Tintin?'" another of the men said. The first one nodded.

Tintin looked shiftily at the three men. All three were dressed in black, and they had undoubtedly hid police truncheons in their pockets. The reporter questioned warily, "And if I am?"

"Emeís tha sas párei na Tágmatos tou Ádi̱! Tágmatos tou Ádi̱!" the first man said, and started laughing. Now, Tintin didn't catch much of that sentence, but he recognized one word. 'Ádi̱.' Hades. _This can't be good…_

"Now, come with us quietly, and we won't have to resort to physical violence, boy," the third man threatened. He beckoned for Tintin to come to the car.

"And if I say no?" Tintin asked.

The third man cackled and said, "I just told you, boy. We won't have to hurt you. We won't resort to physical violence." At his sentence's end, Tintin had heard enough. He moved faster than a bullet and smashed his fist into the cackling man's face.

"Well, I think you'll _have_ to resort to physical violence to get me to come!" Tintin yelled. The man who only spoke Greek charged at Tintin, but the smaller reporter was faster. He sidestepped the thug and tripped him. The man shouted something profane in Greek and slammed into a wall. The second man took out his truncheon (just as Tintin thought; they did have weapons on them) and lunged at Tintin. The thug brought the bludgeon down that would have knocked someone out, but Tintin head-butted his enemy in the stomach. He fell to the ground. The one who only spoke in Greek had time to recover and pulled out his truncheon. In a desperate attempt, he threw the thing at Tintin while he was trying to wrestle the other cosh out of the other man's hand. Unluckily for the reporter, the flying bludgeon hit him straight in the eye. He tumbled off of his enemy, holding his eye. While Tintin was distracted, the second thug raised his truncheon to knock out his foe, but was thwarted by a flying ball of white, angry fur. Snowy lodged his teeth into the man's leg, causing him to swear loudly in Greek.

"Get off, you blasted animal!" the thug shouted furiously, hitting Snowy with his cosh. Snowy crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Tintin yelled angrily, "You brute! How dare you do that to Snowy!" He ran to the thug and fist met face when the enraged reporter punched the man as hard as he could. The third man, who Tintin had knocked out earlier, awoke.

"Synchéontai vlax! You're tougher than we thought!" the thug hissed under his breath. Quickly, he yanked his bludgeon out of his pocket, ran up behind Tintin, and hit him as hard as he could.

_**CRACK! **_

_Wh-what hit me? It must have been the one I punched earlier! I've got to… _But it was too late. Tintin's vision had already started to blacken. His knees buckled and he fell to the cold stone underfoot. _I…I need to…get up… _The last thing Tintin saw was the three thugs and their black car before blacking out.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun DUN! What will happen to Tintin? What do the thugs want? Find out in the next exciting chapter of "Tintin and the Order of Hades"!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Me: Yeah~! I just thought I'd let everyone know that my Greek is coming from my wonderful Google Translator! So, my apologies to anyone who speaks Greek<strong> **because I've probably misspelled something or other! :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Me: Hello, again! Sorry for the long wait! :)**

**Tintin: Really, this is getting out of hand... -_-**

**Me: What ever do you mean? :O**

**Tintin: First you beat me up, then you- :O**

**Me: *covers Tintin's mouth* SSSHHShsh! Don't spoil the story! D:**

**Tintin: *grumble* Mff camfff brfff! (I can't breathe!) D:**

**Me: Oh! Sorry! *releases poor Tintin* ^w^''**

**Tintin: *pant pant* Great...Snakes...** **Ō_Ō**

**Me: Heh heh. I'll do the disclaimer today. I, AkuRoku18, don't own Tintin at all. Tintin belongs to Herge and Moulinsart (or something like that.) ;)**

**Tintin: *pant* Yes...now go read... *pant***

**Me: Awww...sorry Tintin! *pats* As he said, go enjoy some fanfiction~! :D  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

He didn't know how long he had been in the car, but by the time it stopped, Tintin knew that he was at the Order of Hades. He heard car doors open and slam shut, but couldn't see what was happening; the kidnappers had put a heavy bag over his head. The door closest to Tintin opened and he was roughly forced out of the car. Someone began talking rapidly in Greek, undoubtedly the man who only spoke in Greek that attacked Tintin earlier. The young reporter felt something that was eerily similar to a gun barrel jab into his back.

"Begin walking forward. Don't talk," the wielder of the gun hissed. Seeing that he didn't know how far he'd come, he had a bag over his head, and someone was pointing a gun at him, Tintin was forced to comply. He began to walk. After about 15 paces, the same voice said, "Now, turn left." Left. "Turn right" Right. "Now stop." Tintin stopped. "There is a flight of stairs directly in front of you. Stay close to the wall and start walking down them. Be careful not to fall down them; we want you in good shape for our master." Tintin snickered quietly, but began to descend down the spiral staircase. When he finally reached the bottom, the same man said, "Walk forward 7 paces and stop. Don't try any funny business, got it?" The reporter walked 7 steps and came to a halt. The gun wielder hissed something in Greek and Tintin heard a door open.

"Bring him in," a different voice said. The man behind Tintin jabbed the barrel of the gun sharply into his back and he stumbled forward. A pair of hands grabbed the reporter and practically threw him down on a chair. Tintin felt a tough cord being wrapped around him. When he was thoroughly tied up, the bag was yanked off his head. Tintin blinked a few times to adjust his sight to the light. He saw that he was in a small, grimy, square room with two windows on the left or right. Both were barred. In front was a small desk with a man sitting there. He had black hair that was slicked back, a crooked nose, and small, beady black eyes. The man grinned evilly and said in a deep voice, "Welcome to the Order of Hades, Mr. Tintin."

Tintin glared around the room and said coldly, "Ah. This run down place is the Order of Hades? I wasn't expecting anything less from a pack of yellow criminals." The man behind Tintin snorted and slammed his foot into the back of the chair Tintin was tied to. The reporter hit the ground with a dull 'thud.' He felt the unpleasant metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

"Settle down, Ikaros. After all, Mr. Tintin is our guest of honour." The man called Ikaros grunted and lifted the chair off the ground. Once again, Tintin faced the man at the desk. He felt blood trickle out of his mouth. "Now, tell me why you've come to Greece, my friend."

"First, answer me this," Tintin said quickly, "who are you and what do you want with me?" He was positive his question would be answered with another kick, but Ikaros didn't seem to budge. The bodyguard made a soft snarling sound, but remained still.

"Well, if you must know…" The man at the desk stood and walked until he was inches from Tintin's face. "My name is Abaddon Baltazar. It's a pleasure to finally meet the world famous reporter, Mr. Tintin." Tintin wished he could either get away from Abaddon's terrible breath, or simply punch him in the nose to make it more crooked. He preferred the latter.

"Charmed," retorted Tintin. Abaddon chuckled and returned to his seat at the desk. "Now, if you could answer my other question: what do you want from me?"

"Now, now. Let's not become impatient," Abaddon said, "Especially since you just got here! I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may."

Tintin glanced around the room. Perhaps there was a way to escape. He looked at the windows. _No chance I could get through those bars, with or without the chair… and with that guard…what's his name…Ikaros watching my every move I won't be able to lift a finger! _Concluding there was no way out, Tintin sighed and said, defeated, "Very well. Ask away."

"Good. My first question, who are you working for?"

"A newspaper company called _Le Petit Vingtième._"

"That's not what I mean. I mean, which country sent you here?"

"I come from Belgium."

Abaddon's eyebrow twitched slightly. "I don't think you understand my question. Whose government sent you here?"

"No one's government. I've already told you; _Le Petit Vingtième_ sent me here to write a report for their newspaper," Tintin replied.

"Gamó̱to! Fine, I'll believe you this time," Abaddon hissed angrily. His tone became relaxed when he said, "Now, the next question. Why are you here, Mr. Tintin?"

"Haven't I made myself clear yet? I came for a report –" But Abaddon slammed his fist on the desk, abruptly cutting Tintin off.

"Sio̱pí̱! Why don't you tell the truth, you anói̱tos!" He practically leapt out of this seat and almost sprinted toward Tintin, fist raised. Tintin flinched, prepared for the blow.

Abaddon was prepared to hit the reporter as hard as he could, but the door opened brusquely. The man who only spoke Greek came in the room. He said quickly, "Kýrie, i̱ italikí̱ présvi̱s eínai edó̱!"

"Ti? Tó̱ra? Gamó̱to! Pes tou óti tha eímai ekeí sýntoma," replied Abaddon. He turned back to Tintin and said cruelly, "Very well, Mr. Tintin. You've been temporarily spared. I'll be back." Abaddon walked up to Ikaros and whispered into his ear, "Boreíte na afí̱sete epísi̱s."

"Ti? Allá, ti ki an prospatheí na drapetéf̱sei?" the guard hissed angrily.

Abaddon snorted and said, "Parakaló̱. Échei deméno kalá. Den tha páei pouthená." Ikaros sighed and followed his master.

* * *

><p>Snowy awoke to see Tintin was nowhere to be found. <em>Where has Tintin run off to? <em>He sniffed around for the Tintin trail. The little white dog found his master's scent and followed it to the curb of the road. _Why does his scent end here? Wait! Those thugs from earlier! They must have taken Tintin away! Rats! _Snowy sat down heavily and huffed. _Well, I can follow the car's smell and I ought to find him! _The dog picked up the car's scent, which was convenient because the car seemed to have an oil leak. _I'll find Tintin no matter what!_

* * *

><p>Tintin sat in the silent, dark room. He sighed. <em>Well, this is just fantastic. Here I am, sitting in a dingy, musty room with no way out. Although… I might have something… <em>Tintin managed to get his hand into his pocket. "Aha! Luckily for me, these gangsters aren't that bright. They didn't search me when I came in!" He pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket. Tintin managed to flip the knife out, cutting a few fingers in the process. He began to cut the rope that bound him to the chair. "That's almost got it!" The first loop snapped. "Excellent! Now for the other bits of the rope."

* * *

><p>Eventually, Tintin had achieved cutting through the rope. He walked to the door and pulled on the handle. The door creaked open. "Great snakes! These thugs <em>really<em> aren't that bright, are they? To not lock a door with a prisoner inside…well, that's just foolish!" Tintin slipped through the open door and snuck quietly to the stairs he had been lead down. Before he reached the stairs, he heard voices coming from another room. Curious, the reporter stood next to the door and put his eye to the keyhole. Not seeing anything, Tintin gave up that approach and put his ear to the door.

"…of course, Sir Achille. The attack will be soon, I promise."

"Sì, sì. Very good, Mr. Baltazar. I will return to Italy and inform my generals. Now, you don't know an exact date, do you?"

Tintin heard Abaddon cough nervously and continue, "Er, no, not at this point. I swear to you that we will think of a time for Italy to invade Greece." That was all Tintin had to hear. He started to run to the stairs, but the door that he was just eavesdropping opened. He briefly looked back and saw Abaddon staring at him with hate and surprise. "Y-you! How did you escape?"

"You and your men were too lax, Mr. Baltazar. You didn't search me when you brought me in and you didn't lock the door designed to keep me in. I hope you learn from this experience!" Tintin started to run as fast as humanly possible up the spiral staircase. He heard several gunshots and furious shouting in Greek, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was to escape this place. Tintin came to the top of the stair case and looked at two hallways that seemed to loom over him. One branched to the right, and the other to the left. "Er, oh dear… it was easier with someone telling you were to go…" Footsteps were echoing throughout the building. Tintin hastily looked to his right. "I believe that I came from that way!" Without a moment's hesitation, the young reporter began to sprint down the right hallway. He came to a turn, rounded it, and came face to face with one of the thugs that attacked him earlier. He was with two other men.

"Ti sto diáolo? Tintin!" the gangster exclaimed. The other's pointed their guns at Tintin. However, the reporter was too fast. Just as the men started to fire, Tintin turned on his heels and dashed back the way he came. The thugs took up the chase, shouting profanities in Greek. Tintin ran past the stairs, where more gangsters seemed to sprout up out of nowhere.

"Well, how much harm can come out of going down the left hallway? I'm in a jam either way!" Tintin said to himself. But, while he was running, someone hiding in a niche in the wall stuck his foot out and tripped Tintin, sending him skidding into the ground. He pushed himself off the ground, dazed. Two men, one of which was the thug that knocked Tintin out in their little fight, grabbed the reporter and held his arms behind his back.

Clapping echoed in the hallway. From round the corner, Abaddon walked forward. He said, "That was a marvelous escape attempt, my friend. I wanted to see what you were really made of."

"Wh-what? You mean…" Something clicked in Tintin's mind. "I understand! You deliberately didn't search me and you didn't lock the door on purpose!" He wanted to say more vile things, but now wasn't particularly the time.

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Tintin." Abaddon took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He drew a breath and blew out smoke, making Tintin want to cough, but he forced himself not to. The leader kneeled, looked Tintin eye to eye, and said, "Now then, I want you to leave Greece and never come back, understand?"

"Or what?" Tintin asked challengingly.

"Simple. We'll kill you." Suddenly, Tintin felt a cloth press over his nose and mouth. "Just remember that, Mr. Tintin: If you don't leave Greece soon, the Order of Hades will hunt you down and kill you where you stand."

Tintin struggled against the man holding the cloth to his face, but he felt himself get weaker and weaker with each passing second. _Why…do these kinds of things…always happen to…me? _His vision darkened, and he finally blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun DUN! XD<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Tintin: Hello to you as well, flylikeabird22! I'm happy to see that you like this story thus far. :)<strong>

** Me: Awww...you're being so social! ^w^  
><strong>

**Tintin: ...please excuse me while I kill my author. :(**

**Me: ...wait, what? D:  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Me: Hello again, everyone! :D  
><strong>

**Tintin: ... *cries* I want to go home... ;_;  
><strong>

**Me: Awww... whassa matter, Tintin? :O  
><strong>

**Tintin: Well... you're just so mean to me... T_T  
><strong>

**Me: *le gasp* I am not! :O  
><strong>

**Tintin: ... well... you like to beat me up... ;A;  
><strong>

**Me: *cough who wouldn't cough* Oh, Tintin, I promise you'll get better! :)  
><strong>

**Tintin: ... *sniff* Okay... ;w;  
><strong>

**Me: Here, I'll even do the disclaimer! I, AkuRoku18, do not own Tintin, nor am I making a profit. There, you have to feel a little better now, right? ^w^  
><strong>

**Tintin: I... I guess... :'(  
><strong>

**Me: *thinking* _Oh my god, he's s_o _cute when he's crying... _*nosebleeds*  
><strong>

**Tintin: Um... AkuRoku18? Are you all right? :/  
><strong>

**Me: *dies* *_*  
><strong>

**Tintin: Oh my god! Call an ambulance! D:  
><strong>

**My soul: _Enjoy the fanfiction! Even though I'm dead... -w-_  
><strong>

**Tintin: No, soul! Get back here! O_o  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Snowy had been running quite some time searching for Tintin. He felt as if he'd ran at least 8 marathons. The little white dog eventually sat down heavily, exhausted. _That's torn it! I can't seem to find Tintin anywhere! Where the devil could he have gone? _As if on cue, a black car rolled up next to the curb. Three men got out and one had something, or someone, slung over his shoulder. Snowy eyed the object the man was carrying curiously. _Why, that looks like… Tintin! What have those brutes done to him? _Snowy wanted to attack the gangsters, but he didn't know what they would do to Tintin if he did.

The men walked into an alleyway, with Snowy following close behind, and the one carrying Tintin dropped the reporter on the ground. He said, "Let that be a lesson, you anói̱tos nearós!" The gangsters turned and left, leaving an unconscious Tintin behind.

_**Lick, lick, lick.**_ _Something's licking my face… __**Lick, lick, lick.**_ _It is quite bothersome… _Tintin slowly opened his eyes to see that Snowy was repeatedly licking him. He pushed himself up off the ground and said groggily, "Thanks, Snowy." The little white dog yipped happily. He was glad his master was finally awake. Tintin stood up, but had to use the wall as support. "Ugh… awful stuff, chloroform… makes you feel terrible…" Snowy barked loudly somewhere behind the reporter. Tintin turned and asked, "What's up, Snowy?" But, the white dog was nowhere in sight. Just when Tintin thought Snowy had gone off to chase an alley cat, he reappeared again, this time with a banana peel on his head. Tintin had to stifle a laugh and asked again, "What is it, Snowy? Fancy bananas, do you?" Snowy shook the peel off and tugged at Tintin's pants, urging him to follow_. Hmm… I guess he really wants something… _"Alright, Snowy, I'll follow you, but if it turns out to be another one of those dirty bones, you'll regret it!"

Snowy huffed agitatedly and led Tintin to a stack of garbage cans. To Snowy, this must have smelled interesting, but the reporter pulled out a handkerchief and put it over his nose. "Great snakes, Snowy, did you really bring me over just to smell some trash?" _He sounds annoyed,_ Snowy thought. But, nonetheless, Snowy insisted for Tintin to continue by head-butting his ankles. "Ugh, since when did I become demoted from reporter to trash inspector…?" Snowy leaped onto one of the garbage cans started to bark quickly and noisily. Tintin ran to the dog and clapped his hand over Snowy's mouth. He hissed, "Snowy! Quiet! Do you want to wake up all of Greece?" But the fox terrier wouldn't stop whimpering and scratching the can. "Is something in the bin… or behind them?"

Tintin removed his hand from Snowy's mouth (fortunately, he stopped barking) and started to move the garbage cans. Several he had to lift, but many were easy enough to shove aside. Eventually, he had moved all the bins and found something people don't normally find laying in garbage: a person. Tintin went to the man, checking his pulse. "He's alive, Snowy! But, how could he have survived, falling out of… a…" He looked up at the surrounding buildings. None had windows on them. "…window? He couldn't have jumped off the building… unless… of course! Someone put this fellow here and hid him behind the bins! Then, who is this man?" He paced back and forth. "A group of treacherous Greeks… an Italian invasion… and a mysterious chap hidden behind garbage bins… things seem to be coming together, but I can't make much out of it…"

"I may be able to help you with that," a voice said. Tintin whirled back on his heels, fists raised, but he was glad to see that it was the man hidden behind the garbage cans. The man was a little taller than Tintin himself with ruffled black hair and deep blue-green eyes. He wore some kind of military uniform with several medals pinned to the fabric. The holster for his gun was empty.

Tintin breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Thank the heavens! You gave me a right scare."

"My apologies." The man rubbed his head and continued, "Do you know how long I was out?"

"I'm sorry, I found you just now," Tintin said, shaking his head.

"Pity. Ah, no worries. All that matters is that you found me, and now I can get back to work…" The man began to walk briskly past Tintin, but the young reporter grabbed his arm. The man turned to Tintin and snapped, "What do you need, young man? If it is nothing of importance, then I bid you good day."

"Wait! You must tell me what happened to you! After all, it's not every day you find someone unconscious in the trash."

The man sighed and said, "Fine. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Nileas."

"Yes, I remember you; you were one of the guards standing outside of Ioannis's door when I came to interview him!" Tintin exclaimed suddenly. Then he realized he cut Nileas off. "Oh! Sorry. Continue."

"Tis true. I was outside of Führer Metaxas's office when you came. But, my military days are over. I can no longer serve a man as corrupt as Metaxas," Nileas said, with anger rising in his voice.

"What do you mean? I knew Metaxas was a dictator with little regard for his people, but corrupt?"

"Aye. Führer Metaxas uses the military to scare his people into thinking he is a great ruler, but that's beside the point. You saw how he denied the accusations that the Italians are about to encroach our borders. He just wants the people to believe they're rumors."

"Hmmm…"

Nileas sighed again. "Well, that doesn't really answer your question, does it? You really wanted to know why I was sleeping ever so peacefully in the trash."

"Yes," Tintin answered.

"Well…" Nileas looked around, as if someone were watching the two talk. Then he whispered, "I'm part of a secret society that is dedicated for a parliamentary republic in Greece. We believe a totalitarian government is not a fit political system in Greece."

"Oh?" This was the first time Tintin had heard someone consider a parliament in this country.

Nileas continued, still whispering, "Yes. We are called 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.'"

"'Naó tou Poseidó̱na'? The restaurant?" Tintin asked, confused.

"That is our base of operations. We use the restaurant guise to attract people to our cause."

Tintin asked, "But, isn't what you're doing similar to what Metaxas does? I mean, your using—" But Nileas cut Tintin off abruptly by grabbing his shirt collar and practically tackling him to the ground.

"Do not ever, _ever_ compare us to that man. We are doing this for the betterment of Greece, not ourselves," an infuriated Nileas hissed.

"R-right! H-how foolish of me…" Tintin stammered. The sudden attack startled the young reporter. Nileas stood up and pulled Tintin off the ground.

"You should leave Greece. You're interference is not wanted," Nileas growled.

The Greek whirled on his heels and prepared to leave, when Tintin called, "Wait! Perhaps I can help you?"

"No," Nileas replied quickly. "I've told you; Greece does not need your help." Then he really left, walking out of the alley into the streets of Athens.

"I say, Snowy. These people really don't want us here, do they?" Tintin asked the little white dog. Snowy yipped. "Well, I have no idea where the Order of Hades is and the fellows at the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' don't seem to want our help." He sighed. "I guess we have no choice but to leave. Come on, Snowy."

* * *

><p><strong>October 13, 1940<strong>

Tintin had packed his bags and was prepared to leave, but he decided to take a little tour of Athens before the plane left. He had no chauffeur anymore, so he asked the desk attendant if a good museum was near to the hotel.

"A museum?" the attendant asked. "Well, I know there's one in Exarcheia, in central Athens. It's called 'The National Archaeological Museum of Athens.' It's not too far from where we are. Go a few blocks north till you find Patission Street, and follow that street to the east. You can't miss the building."

"Thank you. Come, Snowy. We'll do a little sight-seeing before we leave," Tintin said. The little dog barked excitedly. The two walked out of the hotel and traveled north, as the attendant said, to Patission Street. From there, they turned right and followed the street. It wasn't a very busy street, but parked cars lined the sidewalks. "Athens really is a pretty place. It's a shame we have to leave so soon." Eventually, Tintin and Snowy reached the museum. The building wasn't hard to miss with its many pillars, flat roof, and sprawling garden. Tintin had to gasp at the sheer size of the building. "Great Snakes! What a building!" Snowy barked in agreement.

They both walked up to the door. When Tintin opened it, he had to gasp again. The walls were lined with artwork. Pedestals lined the walls with statues of various gods or important people. Even the ceiling was decorated. "Incredible! Stupendous! Prodigious! How else can I describe it?" Tintin asked himself. He kneeled down to Snowy and said, "Well, at least I can write about the amazing museums in Greece, eh, Snowy?" Snowy barked.

At that moment, a museum guard strode over to the boy and his dog and said loudly, "Boreíte! Den boreíte na échoun ta skyliá edó̱!"

"I-I'm sorry?"

Realizing that the young man couldn't speak fluent Greek, the guard said slowly, "You… uh… no can have… dog… in museum."

"Oh! Alright then. Snowy, wait outside, OK, boy?" Tintin said. Snowy whined, so Tintin continued coaxingly, "It's OK, Snowy! I'll only be a few minutes." The little dog huffed, but strode outside, found a nice tree to sit by, and lay down. "Good boy!" Tintin called. Snowy barked agitatedly.

"You…uhm… like tour?" the guard asked, gesturing towards a guide booth. There was one lady standing at the booth, talking in fast Greek to a bunch of people.

"Er, no, thank you. I'll manage alone," replied Tintin. Checking one last time on Snowy to make sure he hadn't ran off, Tintin began to walk round the museum, hands in his pockets. "I still want to know why the Order of Hades is plotting with the Italians… what's in it for them?" Tintin asked himself quietly. He stopped walking and stood next to a statue of the God of the Wild, Pan. That's when he noticed a shifty figure standing in the back of the room. "Hello… what's this chap up to?" The man seemed to look around, in case someone was watching him. He didn't seem to notice Tintin, so he started to walk to a door in the back. "Where are you going?" Tintin whispered, and began following the man discretely. The young reporter followed the man out the door into some sort of hallway. The path stretched for quite a few meters until it lead to another door. Tintin opened it, and looked around the corner to the right. No one was there, so he looked to the left. The man he was trailing continued walking to yet another door.

He knocked on the door three times and asked quietly, "Kaïnam, eísai ekeí?"

"Naí," a voice on the other side of the door answered, "Eínai óti sas, Leonidas?"

"Naí," the man said. The door opened and the man Tintin had been following walked inside. Tintin snuck up to the door, and hid behind some crates. The door had some writing above it, but the young reporter had to squint to see what it said. The writing read:

Táγματος του Άδη

Tintin looked down in thought and said loudly, "Tágmatos tou Ádi̱! The Order of Hades! I found it!" Suddenly the door opened and Tintin pressed his back against the crates, making sure his tuft of hair wasn't seen.

"Poios eínai ekeí?" a voice, presumably Kaïnem, asked quickly. When he heard no reply, he grunted and shut the door.

Tintin let out a sigh of relief. "Whew! That was a close one." He stood up and strode quietly to one side of the door. He knocked three times, just as Leonidas had.

"Poios eínai?" came the voice of Kaïnem again.

"Er… to ónomá mou eínai… um…" Tintin quickly thought of a name. "Pan. Egó̱… uh… eímai néos ..." The door opened again. Kaïnem cautiously looked around. When he looked Tintin's direction, he had a surprised look on his face, not just from seeing an intruder, but also seeing a fist smash into his nose. The guard crumpled to the ground, knocked out. "Sorry my Greek isn't very good," Tintin said sardonically. He searched Kaïnem's pockets and found a revolver; a Nagant M1865, to be precise. "I don't particularly like these toys, but I'd best be armed." He checked how many shots he had. All six slots were filled. "Excellent. Now, to work." He stepped over Kaïnem's unconscious body and headed into the corridor, gun at the ready. He found a staircase and decided to follow it down.

"… assure you, Sir Achille, we have found the date," an eerily familiar voice said. Tintin came to the bottom of the stairs and realized that he had found his way back to where he was captured. The voice behind the same door Tintin had been eavesdropping on only a day earlier was Abaddon Balthazar.

"Eccellente! Tell me, when Führer Mussolini plan for his attack?" the Italian asked eagerly.

"The date Benito Mussolini and the Italian army can finally attack Greece is October the 28th, sir," Abaddon said, confirming Tintin's fears.

"Perfetto, perfetto! Congratulations, Mr. Balthazar, you shall be rewarded accordingly!" Achille laughed coldly.

"I'm just glad we could do business, Sir Achille."

Tintin backed away from the door and ran up the stairs. He came to the top in a cold sweat. "October 28th! That's only about 2 weeks from now! I must warn Nileas! I don't care if he told me to leave or that he doesn't want my help! The 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' must know! Better them then Metaxas!" He started running at breakneck speed to get out of the building. He went back the way he came, where Kaïnem was still knocked out. Tintin leapt over the Greek's body and sprinted to the right, the opposite direction from which he came. Eventually, he came to an alley way. One way went back to the streets, and one way went to a series of alleys. Tintin started to run back to the streets of Athens, when a group of gangsters suddenly appeared behind him.

"Ekeí eínai! Pyrovolí̱ste ton!" one of the men shouted. Tintin heard several gunshots, but kept running.

_**CRACK!**_

Tintin felt like his entire side had exploded. He stumbled in an effort to continue running, but the pain was unbearable. He clasped a hand to his side. When he drew it back, his hand was covered in blood. His blood. Tintin tripped again and fell to the ground. Panting, he lay in the alley, waiting for the gangsters to catch up to him, but they never came. He heard someone shouting in Greek. Before he blacked out, he saw flashing lights and people in white clothing. Then, nothing.


	5. Chapter 4

**Me: Hooray! I finally finished this chapter! :D (God... took me long enough.)  
><strong>

**Tintin: Oh, good. :I  
><strong>

**Me: ... what is it _this_ time, Oh-Quiffy-One? :/  
><strong>

**Tintin: Nothing. I'm just happy that I'm not being beaten up or dying in this chapter. :)  
><strong>

**Me: ... Ah! Well, I'm glad you're happy. :D  
><strong>

**Tintin: I'll even do the disclaimer today. AkuRoku18 does not own The Adventures of Tintin (I'm sort of glad she doesn't...), or is she making a profit off of this fanfic. :)  
><strong>

**Me: Thanks, Tintin! :D Wait... what was that part in the middle? :S**

**Tintin: Which part? ^^  
><strong>

**Me: The part about you being glad that I don't own the Adventures of Tintin...? ^^  
><strong>

**Tintin: Erm... :/  
><strong>

**Me: ^J^  
><strong>

**Tintin: ... I don't want to know what that face means. D:  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**October 16, 1940**

Tintin awoke in a white room with a little window to his right and a chair to his left. He was lying in a nice white bed with several pillows propped up behind his head. The sun was shining pleasantly outside, streaming in through the window. _It must be the afternoon…_ Tintin thought. He pushed himself up slightly and cringed. His side felt as if someone were digging a hot fire poker into the skin. Tintin decided it would be best not to move and lay back into the pillows. _What I do for a living… _The door opened and a nurse walked in with a familiar face behind her. It was Nileas.

"Tintin! It is good to see you're awake," he said with a relieved, yet tired smile on his face. He was carrying a glass of water for himself. Somewhere behind him, the reporter heard Snowy's bark and the little white dog weaved between Nileas's and the nurse's legs. He jumped onto Tintin's bed and started to lick his face.

"Augh! Snowy! Stop that, you mutt!" Tintin cried amusedly, trying to shove the dog away from him. His side gave another throb and he muttered, "Ow."

Nileas whispered to the nurse, "Boroúme na eímaste mónoi?"

"Nai, kýrie," she replied and left the room, shutting the door behind here.

"I thought I asked you to leave Greece," Nileas said sternly after the nurse had walked out of earshot.

"I was going to, but I dug up some information that you need to know!"

"And what's that?"

Tintin exclaimed, "The Italians are going to invade Greece!"

Nileas dropped the glass he was holding and it shattered on the floor. "Ti? You'd best be joking, Tintin!" He muttered, "Thélete kalýtera na mi̱n vrísketai…"

"I'm not joking. The people that kidnapped me and probably attacked you are working with the Italians. They're called the Order of Hades and I heard them talk to one of Mussolini's generals! The Italian army will be here on the 28th of October, and Greece not only be ruled by a dictator; it'll be enslaved by the Italians. Do you want that, Nileas?" Tintin asked angrily.

Nileas stood silent, suddenly finding interest in the cracks of the white wallpaper. He finally spat out, "Óchi. You know I don't, Tintin."

"Then, you'll help me?" asked the reporter, sitting up straighter. Even Snowy looked expectantly at the Greek.

"… what sort of plan did you have in mind?" Nileas replied heavily, as if he didn't want to ask.

"You're not going to like this, but I need to see if Metaxas will heed my advice," Tintin said, earning a sharp glare and something that sounded like a choking noise and a growl.

"WHAT? You're kidding! You're out of your blasted mind!" Nileas roared. Tintin was sure he had made each person in the whole building jump. The black haired Greek hissed, "If you weren't hospitalized, I would punch you."

The younger male furrowed his brow and retorted, "I'm glad those men shot me."

The two locked eyes briefly, blue and blue-green. Then, Nileas said, "I'm sorry, but how do you know that Metaxas will listen to you? He brushed you off the last time you met."

"I have to try. And if he doesn't take my word, then it's up to us and the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' to take out Abaddon and the Order of Hades."

The Greek nodded and said, "Very well. I can get you into the Parliamentary building without the guards noticing, but you shouldn't try to do anything risky yet; you are still injured, you know." He glanced back at the door as it had opened. A nurse was standing in the doorway.

"Eínai óla entáxei?" she asked. She was carrying a clipboard with something clipped to it.

"Nai, nai . Nómiza óti sas zí̱ti̱sa na fýgo̱?" replied Nileas, giving her a look of annoyance.

"Ahh! Lypámai, kýrie!" the nurse cried, quickly shutting the door. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hallway.

Nileas sighed and ruffled his messy raven hair. "Alright. We'll wait a couple days for you to recover, then we'll—" He stopped talking abruptly when he saw Tintin climbing out of the hospital bed. "… what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Let's get moving," replied Tintin. Snowy leapt off the bed and barked. He walked briskly to the little chair. His clothes were washed and neatly folded on the chair. "Ahh… there we go. I'll have to ask you to step outside, Nileas. I'm going to change."

"W-wait! If you think I'm going to let you do this now, while you're hurt, you can forget it!" said Nileas, his voice rising. When Tintin said nothing, the Greek continued, "Tintin! Are you even listening to me?"

"Intently," Tintin said cheerfully.

"Grrr! Come now, be reasonable. You were _shot_, for Zeus's sake!"

"Your point? I've been shot plenty of times before."

Nileas's shoulders sagged and he grumbled, "I'll be waiting outside." He slowly turned around and left the room. The reporter sighed and he unbuttoned his hospital shirt.

"I can understand his concern, but there are more important things going on now, Snowy," he said. The little white dog yipped. Tintin pulled off the shirt and exchanged it for his own button-up shirt. He looked briefly at the bandaged mess that covered his side. "I'll just have to carry on with this wound." Some movements pulling on his blue sweater made his side throb painfully, but he ignored it. "After all, this is for the greater good, eh, Snowy?" Snowy barked.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Tintin had completely changed and met up with Nileas outside of the hospital. He startled several nurses on his way out. When he came outside, he asked, "Well, are you ready to go, Nileas?"<p>

"I still think this is a bad idea," Nileas muttered, but he nonetheless followed Tintin as he walked away from the white building. "Tintin, are you sure? If this plan of yours goes wrong… you could wind up dead."

"I've cheated death before. Even when things were the most bleak," Tintin said with stark confidence.

"Oh, really. Like how?"

"You've heard about Professor Calculus's famous Moon-Rocket expedition, right?"

"Yes, I have. It was in all the newspapers."

"Well, when the rocket was off course and there was little oxygen left, I still managed to correct the course just in time. I thought it was curtains for me and my friends, but we still made it back to Earth," explained the reporter, putting his hands in his pockets.

Nileas stared at Tintin incredulously and said, "They didn't write that in the article I read."

Tintin laughed, "That probably would have been too distressing for the public." His Greek companion chuckled.

"Of course. I'm glad that at least you're assured that your crazy plan will work," Nileas said seriously. "I just don't know how you're going to convince him… Metaxas, I mean."

"Oh, I can be very convincing when I want to be," said Tintin slyly.

"Alright, if you say so."

"Now then. For your part of the plan, it needs to be dark outside…"

* * *

><p>Soon, it was past seven o'clock and Tintin and Nileas were ready to deploy their plan. Nileas led the reporter and the dog behind the Parliamentary building. He knew of a secret door and passage that led straight to Metaxas's office. It was sort of an escape passage for the ruler if anything were ever to happen.<p>

"You're going to have to hurry, Tintin," Nileas whispered. "Metaxas always goes out for a walk from seven to eight, so…" He checked his watch. The hands showed it was seven twenty. "You've got forty minutes."

"Easy," Tintin said, opening the door. Snowy was about to jump into the passageway, but Tintin said, "No, Snowy. You stay out here with Nileas, alright?" Snowy barked defiantly. "Snowy. Stay," the dog's master said firmly. The little white dog huffed and stood next to Nileas. "Good boy. Nileas, if I don't come back half an hour after eight, just execute the rest of the plan without me." The raven haired Greek nodded, so Tintin stepped through the trap door and into the dark passageway.

"Good luck," Nileas called. Snowy howled softly. The door shut behind Tintin, turning the whole passage pitch black.

"Great." Tintin pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket. "This is why I have my torch." He turned it on and said, "Much better." He followed the long passage until he came to a ladder that led straight up. _I wonder where in Metaxas' office this will lead… _Tintin checked his own watch. It read seven thirty five. "Good, I have plenty of time." He grabbed the rungs of the ladder and began to climb.

Eventually, he came to another trap door. The edges were lined with soot. _Does this come out from underneath the fireplace? _Tintin thought. Holding on to the ladder with one hand and with the flashlight clenched firmly between his teeth, he started to feel around the stone, trying to see if there was a lever or button to open it. But there was nothing. _How do I get into this place if there's no lever? _He pushed up on the stone slab, but it didn't budge. He furrowed his brow and went up another rung to push on the stone with his back. _Crumbs! I can't move it! _In his frustration, he punched the center of the slab. Tintin swore inwardly and examined his hand. He had split the skin on several knuckles. The reporter heard a mechanism click somewhere and the slab rose out and over. _Hmm. That's different. I suppose getting angry at the thing is how you open it. _

He climbed up the remainder of the ladder and into Metaxas' office. Tintin checked his watch again. Seven fifty. Metaxas would be back in ten minutes, supposedly. He crawled out of the fireplace and looked around the office. _No-one home_, he thought. He pulled up a chair from across the desk and sat down heavily. _Now we wait._ Ten minutes passed. The reporter looked at his watch. Eight o'clock. _He should be here soon. _

Another ten minutes. _Eight ten? Where is he? _Tintin stood from the chair and cautiously walked to the doors. There was some muttering from the other side of the wooden doors.

"Eínai ekeí, so̱stá?" a voice asked.

"Nai. Tha párete to álma páno̱ tou," the other voice replied. Tintin backed away from the doors and stood with his back against the wall next to the doorway. The doors swung open and the guards ran in, truncheons raised. "Poú pí̱ge?" the guard on the right asked.

"Den xéro̱…" the other said. Tintin carefully grabbed a candlestick from the table next to him and snuck up behind the right-hand guard. He hit the guard over the head, knocking him out. He crumpled to the ground, and his companion whipped around, cosh raised. "Ti sto diáolo?" he cried, bringing the bludgeon down on his enemy. But Tintin was too quick. He rolled to the side and smashed the candlestick against the other guard's neck.

The reporter said quickly, "Sorry about that. I'm really just here to see—" Ioannis Metaxas appeared in the doorway. "… Metaxas," Tintin finished.

"What the hell are you doing in here, boy?" Metaxas roared. He took a few paces forward and looked at the two unconscious guards. "How did you beat these two?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I was defending myself. I need to speak to you about a very important issue, sir," Tintin said, dropping the candlestick and raising both hands. "You see? I'm not here to hurt you."

Metaxas pulled a Smith & Wesson Model 1913 semi-automatic pistol out of a holster at his waist. He pointed it at Tintin's heart and shouted, "Get out of here now! Before I kill you!"

"Please, Metaxas, just hear me out," the young man said almost pleadingly. The angry Greek lowered the gun slightly and nodded. "Sir, there is going to be an attack on Greek soil."

"Hmph. You're lying."

"I'm not lying! The Italians are going to come to Greece and take over your country, Metaxas," explained Tintin. "They will enslave your people and force them to be subjected to Nazi rule." The dictator lowered the gun further and stared in disbelief.

"You must be joking, boy," Ioannis growled.

"I keep telling you, I'm not. I overheard a Greek anarchist plot with an Italian general. They said they would attack on the 28th of October."

Metaxas remained silent for several moments, then muttered in a low tone, "Get out."

"What?"

"GET OUT, BOY!" Metaxas thundered, raising the gun again. Tintin ran past the dictator through the door, just as he started to fire. He heard shouting in Greek (mostly insults) and multiple shots fired, but he just kept running. Several flights of stairs later, he sprinted out of the doors, panting. The young man took a minute to catch his breath, then jogged back behind the large stone building where Nileas and Snowy were waiting for him.

"What happened? I heard gunshots…" Nileas asked worriedly. Snowy leapt into Tintin's arms, licking his face.

"Stop it, Snowy!" chuckled Tintin softly. He put the dog down and said seriously, "Metaxas didn't believe me."

Nileas snorted, "I told you he wouldn't. He's as stubborn as a mule."

"Yes… but now we go through with the rest of the plan, without his help," Tintin said. He crossed his arms and continued, "We and the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' will take down the Order of Hades ourselves."


	6. Chapter 5

**Me: Hey again, everyone! ^^  
><strong>

**Tintin: Hey. c:  
><strong>

**Me: Aw, look! You're smiling~ -huggles- /  
><strong>

**Tintin: -is hugged- O/o  
><strong>

**Me: Well! Since you're so cute, I'll do the disclaimer~ I, AkuRoku18, do not own the Adventures of Tintin, nor am I making a profit from his fanfic~  
>:D<strong>

**Tintin: P-please get off of me. **O/O**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

**October 18, 1940**

Tintin was sitting in the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.' It was completely empty except for him, Snowy, and another member of the revolutionists. His name was Herakles Set. He was a young man with jet black, slightly pointed hair and dark gray eyes. He had a small ankh tattoo under his right eye. Herakles spoke with a mixed Greek and Egyptian accent. At the moment, he was leaning back in a chair and he put his feet up on a table. "So, Kýrie Tintin, you're a… reporter, huh?" he asked nonchalantly, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Yes. I am," Tintin said blankly, staring out of the window. It was night time, so the streetlights were on, illuminating the street.

"Not very chatty, are ya?" Herakles smirked, lighting the cigarette. Smoke furled out of his mouth as he said, "But you're still helpin' us out, some crazy revolutionists from Greece~ How interesting…"

"What d'you mean by that?" Tintin asked without much emotion in his voice. Snowy whined and lay down. He wanted to go run around outside, but Tintin was unmotivated. The Order of Hades had moved bases and the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na' had no leads on where they were.

"Well, I'm sure ya got better things ta do," the Greco-Egyptian commented, taking another drag on the cigarette. "Rather than helpin' us."

Tintin was kind of taken aback from Herakles' statement. He quickly said, "I came to this country to do a simple story. The Order of Hades attacked me and unintentionally spurred my interest about their plans." He chuckled. "It's not that I don't have anything better to do. I want to focus on this story. This is too good to pass up. Plus, my morals are too high for my own good."

Herakles barked with laughter. "Ya got high morals, eh? Atta boy~" He flicked the cigarette butt onto the floor and stood up. "At least some people do~ " he continued, walking past Tintin and punching his shoulder lightly. He said something or other in Egyptian quietly then shouted in Greek, causing Tintin to jump a little. "Pai~on! Deíte ton eaf̱tó sas, máv̱ro skaravaío!"

"Eh? Ti? Ti fo̱názoun gia?" a deep voice thundered back. Tintin turned round in his chair and Snowy jumped up. A large, blonde man emerged from the back of the restaurant, carrying various small tools. _Probably for fixing guns…_ Tintin thought. "Huh… Tintin. Nai… er… hello~" the large man said warmly, smiling slightly. He had bushy black eyebrows and bright green eyes. Tintin could spot the end of a scar creeping up his collarbone; the rest of the scar must have been covered by his shirt.

"So! Here ya are~" Herakles laughed, punching the larger Greek on the shoulder. "Tintin, this is our best engineer, Paion Euphranor~"

"Ah… good to meet you, Mr. Euphranor," Tintin said, standing up and offering a hand to Paion.

Paion smiled more and shook Tintin's hand eagerly. "Nai, nai! I… happy meet you!" he said. He thought about his words and continued, "I sorry. My English… not good."

"Please, don't worry," Tintin chuckled. The door of the restaurant opened and Nileas and two others burst in. Tintin whipped around to see the Greeks and asked, "Well? Find anything?"

"Nai. We did," Nileas panted. The other two Greeks were out of breath too. Tintin hadn't met them, but now was not the time. Nileas brushed strands of black hair out of his face and re-holstered his gun. He took a deep breath and said, "They've changed bases alright. They've moved out of Athens entirely. To Patras."

"Patras?!" Herakles burst out agitatedly. "That's all the way in West Greece! How'd ya get there and back so fast?"

One of the Greeks behind Nileas laughed and said without much trace of an accent, "We found one of the members and… heh huh… _forcefully_ asked him where they were hiding. He didn't want much trouble and just told us. Handy, huh?"

"Peh. Stupid Sol. Left out part where we got attacked," the second Greek muttered. Tintin would have never guessed that the second Greek was a girl until she spoke. "Three other. They come out of shadow. Attack with gun."

"None of you are hurt, are you?" Tintin asked with concern showing in his voice.

"Óchi, fortunately," Nileas said, "We escaped, but they got away. I know they're in Patras, but nothing further than that."

"Well, that's where we have to go. The Order of Hades has all the information about this attack and I intend to do everything I can to prevent it," the young reporter said quietly. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Not more than half an hour later, Tintin, Snowy, Nileas, and the three of the four Greeks were in a car on their way to Patras. Paion was too big to fit in the car so he rode on a motorcycle. They had to, unfortunately, stop in Piraeus, a city between Athens and Patras, to fill up the tank of the car. While they were waiting for the car to be filled, the Greek named Sol came up to Tintin and said cheerfully, "Yo~!"<p>

"Uh… hello," Tintin said, nodding slightly. "Er…" He'd forgotten the name of the Greek.

"Ah hah~! No surprise you don't remember me." The Greek laughed and said, "My names Sol Zotikos~" Sol had pale blonde hair and very light blue eyes. He was wearing a black leather jacket and a tan scarf.

"Sol. Good to meet you," Tintin said with a small smile.

Sol laughed again and clapped Tintin's shoulder. "So! You're all fired up about this thing, eh?"

"I… guess. I just want to help out. I know it's not my duty or anything, but I've been involved enough to know that I should help," said Tintin determinedly. He put his hands in his pocket and felt the gun he concealed there. He sighed. _I really hate these things… they cause so much pain… _Tintin narrowed his eyes and put a hand on his side. The bullet wound in his side had mostly healed up, but it still hurt.

"You okay?" Sol asked. Concern showed in his pale eyes.

"Fine. I… I'm just fine."

Sol nodded and Herakles shouted, "Alright, kids! It's time to go!" The Greco-Egyptian jumped in the car with Nileas at the wheel. The female Greek, Sol, and Tintin sat in the back. Snowy leapt onto Tintin's lap and barked. "Go, go, go, Nileas! We gotta go-go~!"

"Right!" Nileas called back, slamming his foot down on the accelerator. The car sped down the road to Patras.

* * *

><p>Abaddon sat comfortably in his chair at his desk, smoking a cigar. His new base in Patras was far more luxurious than then one in Athens. This building was far nicer with actual windows and furniture. They even a telegram station on the bottom floor. His main man, Ikaros, knocked on the door and came in. "Kýrie. Af̱tí̱ i̱ pragmatiká so̱stí̱?" he asked.<p>

"Nai~ Nai, o Naós tou Poseidó̱na den tha mas vreíte edó̱," Abaddon said, chuckling and taking another drag on the cigar. _Moving the base was the best thing here… if we'd we stayed in Athen, that damn Tintin would have brought the Temple of Poseidon right to us… the 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.' Hmph. I never expected them to be so persistent. _

"Allá, kýrie, ypárchoun akóma merikoí apó tous ándres mas sti̱n Athí̱na..." Ikaros mentioned nonchalantly.

Abaddon coughed on the cigar smoke and whipped around. He snarled, "Ti?! Giatí den mou to eípes?"

"Er… Den pístev̱a óti í̱tan si̱mantikó." Ikaros narrowed his dark brown eyes.

"Boreíte anói̱tos ! Tó̱ra, o Naós tou Poseidó̱na kai ti̱s Tintin tha érthei na mas dikaío̱ma! Pi̱gaínete na ton vro̱!" Abaddon shouted, jabbing his finger at the door.

"Nai, kýrie," Ikaros said. He bowed and muttered something in Greek before leaving the room.

Abaddon Baltazar slammed his fist against the desk and crunched the cigar between his teeth. Ashes fell from the end of the cigar onto the desk. "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why didn't anyone tell me…?! Those men could have been captured by Tintin and 'Naó tou Poseidó̱na.' They could know where we are… they could be on their way here at this very moment…"


	7. Chapter 6

**Me: DONE! :D**

**Tintin: Wh-wha? :O**

**Me: You heard me. I'm done! :D**

**Tintin: R-really! Oh gods, finally! :'D**

**Me: I mean, I have to write an epilogue, but other than that, you're done with this story! :D**

**Tintin: I never thought I'd live to see the day... ;w;**

**Me: I'll even do the disclaimer to celebrate! I do not own the Adventures of Tintin, or the characters (except a few). :D**

**Tintin: I can go have a vacation... TTuTT**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**October 20, 1940**

Night was closing in on the city of Patras. Abaddon paced in his office nervously. What if the Order of Hades was in trouble? What if that dastardly reporter was on his way? Metaxas would certainly be notified, and their whole operation would be a waste. He chewed on his nails. There was a knock at the door and he said, "Enter." Ikaros entered the room and bowed.

"Master. We've received word from Master Achille; the Italians are nearly ready for their assault," he said, "They require eight more days."

"Tell him he has half that time!" Abaddon hissed, "I'm not going to risk this operation any more than it already is, Ikaros!" He turned on his heels and shouted, "Do not come back until you've heard back from Achille or if you have news about Tintin!" Ikaros grumbled something in Greek, but bowed politely and left the room. Abaddon went back to pacing and muttering to himself. "He'll never find us… no one will learn of our plan… Tintin will not find us…" Little did he know, Tintin and the rest of Naó tou Poseidó̱na were just entering the outskirts of Patras…

* * *

><p><strong>October 21, 1940<strong>

Tintin and his friends stayed in a cheap hotel run by friends of Nileas. After everyone was gathered around the table in the breakfast area, Nileas said, "Alright. This is where our reconnaissance begins. Sol, Marika, I want you two to take to the streets. Keep an eye out for any of these men. Report back to me as soon as you do." He hands the Greek woman a sheet of paper with photos of known Order of Hades members. She nods and gestures for Sol to get up and go with her.

He nodded and waved to Tintin. "See ya later~" Tintin waved back halfheartedly as the two exited the hotel.

"Good. Now then, Herakles, Paion, I want you to go shopping." The two looked extremely confused and Tintin had to stifle a laugh.

"Er… sir, that doesn't make any sense," Herakles muttered.

"No, it makes perfect sense. We need civilian clothing to disguise ourselves if we want to infiltrate the Order of Hades," Nileas explained, grinning. Paion put two and two together and smiled devilishly.

"Got it. Come, Herakles! To the streets!" the large Greek laughed, practically picking up the Greco-Egyptian and charging outside. They were gone in the crowd in seconds.

"That seems to leave you and I, Nileas," Tintin said, folding his hands and looking expectantly at the raven haired male. Snowy growled at Tintin and the reporter added hastily, "And Snowy, too."

"Yes. That's because I need you to help me plan our attack."

Tintin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "How many times do I have to remind people that I'm a reporter and not an army general…?" he grumbled. He stared hard into Nileas's eyes and said firmly, "You're the military one here. Not me."

"Of course. But you are also the brightest one of my men. I'm certain you can figure something out." Nileas crossed his arms and said, "I was thinking after we infiltrated the base, we could find Abaddon and capture him, then we would take him to the police. Turn him in for crimes against the country."

"Yes, but how? Surely there are plenty of rooms for him to be hiding in. We couldn't just go wandering around in a hostile base," Tintin argued, "They'd catch wind of our little scheme quickly."

"We could request an audience with him as joining members. We could pledge our loyalty, then capture him," Nileas said.

"There is a chance this won't work and they'll recognise us."

"If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it, Mr. Blooming Optimism."

"How many times to I have to tell people I'm just a realist…"

Nileas stood from the table angrily and started to pace about the room, rubbing his head and muttering in Greek. Tintin rested his chin on his hands. _There is the possibility that this will go sour very fast… but I just don't know what else we can do. I'll just have to go along with this plan… _"Nileas, I apologise. Your plan is a solid one. But we do have to have a backup plan in case we're discovered," Tintin said.

"Right. If we're discovered, we'll book it out of there as fast as we can," the Greek said quickly.

"N-no… that's not what I meant. The last time I tried to book it out of their base I got shot. I would like it best if no one got hurt," Tintin said. He thought for a moment and asked, "Why can't we notify the authorities now? Inform them that we plan to take out a traitorous man and his gang and they can be warned ahead of time. That way, if things go south, they can be ready to save our skins if necessary." Nileas nodded and grinned.

"Not a military planner, eh?" he joked. He strode back to the table and eagerly shook Tintin's hands. "You sir are a fine strategist. I'm glad you're on our side."

"P-please. It's nothing," Tintin mumbled. Paion and Herakles came back with bags of old clothing. They set them on the table.

"We found some good cheap clothes, Nilly-boy," said Herakles, lighting up a cigarette. "They should make us look like normal folks. Abaddy won't know what hit him." Paion nodded excitedly.

"Excellent. Thank you, you two. Paion, please check our supply of ammunition and guns," Nileas ordered. The tall blonde Greek bowed and ran upstairs. They set up a makeshift workplace for Paion to repair the guns out of an old ironing board in the cupboard. "And you, Herakles, I'd like you to start sorting these clothes out. We need to look our best for our date." Herakles nodded, smirking, and got to work. Nileas started to walk out of their base and he gestured to Tintin to follow. The young reporter got up and followed Nileas. Snowy trotted after his master as well.

"Where are we headed?" Tintin asked.

"Our own reconnaissance mission." Nileas grabbed a driver's cap on his way out and plopped it onto Tintin's head. "That'll at least cover your quiff. You're pretty easily recognisable, I'd say." He lead Tintin and Snowy out into the streets of Patras. People crowded the streets as they weaved through the mass of people. "Keep an eye out for any building they might be hiding in. God knows where they're lurking."

Tintin nodded and his eyes darted back and forth. Snowy also kept a vigilant look out. They walked for what seemed like miles and Tintin felt out of breath. Nileas glanced at him with alarm in his eyes and he asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Just not as young as I used to be," Tintin chuckled. He knew he wasn't that old, but he certainly felt at least eighty years older. His side throbbed so he sat on a nearby bench. Nileas sat next to the reporter as Snowy leapt up onto the bench to curl up next to his master.

"Do you think you can pull off this operation in your state?" Nileas asked, "I don't want to put any more strain on you."

"Don't worry about it." Tintin sighed and stared at the sky, letting his head flop back against the back of the bench. "I'll be fine. I just want this man to be captured. Then I can go back home to have a nice long vacation." He grinned. "Won't that be nice, Snowy?" The little dog yipped in agreement.

Nileas nodded and stared at the ground, contemplation creeping into his expression. He looked up suddenly as Sol and Marika came dashing up to them. "Marika! Sol! Did you find their base?" Nileas asked, standing abruptly.

"Yes, here…" Sol pulled out a scrap of paper with a map hastily drawn on. "He's in this building next to the docks."

"Were you spotted?"

"No. No one saw," Marika said stonily, "But we'd best go back. They searching for him." She jabbed a thumb at Tintin. Nileas nodded and helped Tintin to his feet. The four of them travelled back to the hotel as fast as possible. They immediately regrouped with Herakles and Paion.

"Back so soon?" Herakles asked sarcastically. Nileas shot him a look that clearly said 'shut up.' Tintin took a seat as Nileas prepared to speak.

"Thanks to Sol and Marika, we now know where Abaddon and his cronies are hiding. Herakles and Paion bought us our clothes we shall use to sneak into their base. We go tonight. Here's the plan…"

* * *

><p>The sun set over the gulf, turning the sky red. Tintin and the group were dressed up in their disguises; he wore the same driver's cap from that afternoon, a thick woolen scarf, and a dark blue overcoat. Nileas wore dark sunglasses and a leather coat. He motioned for Tintin and the other four Greeks to follow him. "Make sure you gun is loaded," he whispered. They all did, so they headed out. Disguised police officers stood around the Order of Hades base.<p>

"You'll have to stay here, Snowy," Tintin said quietly, kneeling next to the little dog. "Stay with the kind policemen." Snowy whined. "It's okay! I'll be back soon!" Snowy growled, but did what he was told. He loped over to a policeman and stood next to him, eyeing Tintin worriedly. Tintin waved to Snowy and quickly caught up with the rest of his group.

They entered the building. A couple armed guards halted them and one asked in Greek, "What is your business here?"

"We wish to join the Order of Hades," Nileas answered, "Me and my five friends. We hate this country. It deserves to fall to the Nazis. We want to help in any way we can." Tintin and the others nodded, although Tintin didn't really catch a word of the Greek. The guards looked at each other in disbelief.

"Wait here." One guard went over an intercom and called Abaddon, talking quickly in Greek. He walked back over and said, "Master Abaddon will see you five. Follow me, please." The man led the incognito group to an elevator. He pushed the button and the elevator rose slowly, taking them to either a successful apprehension or a gruesome death.

_**Ding.**_

The elevator reached the top floor and everyone exited the elevator. The guard led them into Abaddon's office and Tintin gritted his teeth. He wasn't too pleased to see the man who sentenced him to death. The guard whispered something in Abaddon's ear and he was asked to leave. "So. You want to join our cause, do you? Why should I let you?" he asked coldly.

"We hate Greece as much as you do, sir," Nileas said through a clenched jaw. To his surprise, Abaddon laughed.

"Hate Greece? Pah! You're confused, my boy." Abaddon stared out of the window, gazing at the setting sun and the sea dyed red. "I do not hate Greece. I simply see that what Ioannis Metaxas is doing is wrong for the people, and the Nazis know what they're doing. They will bring peace to Europe and prosperity to the people."

"R-right. Of course. Forgive my insolence, sir," Nileas said, bowing slightly. They all bowed.

"You're forgiven." Abaddon turned back and grinned. "I think you'll do well here, my friends. Welcome to the Order of Hades," he said. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and six glasses. "Come. Have a drink with me." The group walked up to Abaddon's desk and accepted the glasses of whiskey. "For prosperity!"

"Agreed. For prosperity," Nileas growled, dropping the glass and pulling out his gun from the hidden holster. Tintin, Sol, Marika, Paion, and Herakles pulled out their guns and pointed them at the Order of Hades leader. He dropped his glass and threw his hands up, shocked.

"Wh-who the hell are you?!" Abaddon snarled. Tintin tossed his driver's cap on the ground and gave Abaddon a look that clearly said, 'Miss me?' The scars on Abaddon's face warped as he roared, "Tintin! I should have guessed.

"Yes. I believe you should have," Tintin smirked, nodding. Abaddon was so enraged he could hardly form a complete sentence. "Will you let me do the honour of calling the police, Nileas?" Tintin asked. Nileas nodded.

"How will you do that? There is no phone in this room!" Abaddon snorted.

"There are other ways to call the police." Tintin grinned slightly and fired a single shot into the ceiling. "There we go. They're on their way."

Abaddon's eye twitched. "Don't get smart with me."

"I already have." The police barged through the doors, arresting members of the Order of Hades one by one. They eventually reached the top floor and pulled Abaddon along with them to the bottom floor again. Tintin and Naó tou Poseidó̱na seemed to have won, but Abaddon head butted the two police men escorting him out and made a dash towards a nearby garage. During the commotion, Tintin darted after Abaddon. Before he could reach the villain however, he burst through the doors on a motorcycle, speeding down the road towards the mountains. Tintin spotted a second motorcycle and hopped on. Fortunately, the keys were in the ignition, so he started the bike and drove as fast as he could after Abaddon.

Minutes later, the two motorcycles were riding side by side. Abaddon bared his teeth and rammed his bike into Tintin's. The bike turned perpendicular to the road as Tintin tried to stay upright. Unfortunately, the bike slid out from underneath him and he landed on the road painfully. He rolled a couple feet and lay still. He opened his eyes slowly and tried to push himself up, groaning. Abaddon had stopped a few feet ahead of him, gotten off his bike, and started to stroll lazily towards Tintin.

The Greek's beady little eyes glinted as he pulled a gun out of a holster at his side. "Who has the gun pointed at whom now, my friend?" Abaddon sneered, pointing the gun at Tintin's head. The reporter glared at Abaddon. He tried to get up again, but Abaddon's boot kept him down. "Oh, Tintin… you've failed. My men will overtake your little friends and the Italians will overtake Greece. The Führer Hitler will bring peace to this godforsaken land."

"… no…"

"Excuse me?" Abaddon raised an eyebrow and kneeled next to Tintin. "Come again?"

"No. This isn't right. Europe can't be united like this," Tintin growled, "People are dying, Abaddon. Can't you see that?"

"Of course. Some sacrifices need to be made to create a better future."

Tintin narrowed his eyes and said, "You're ideals are so twisted… I'm so sorry for you." He had a burst of adrenaline and grabbed the gun out of Abaddon's hand, pushing himself up and pointing it at the Greek. "Hands up, and don't try anything. I'm not afraid to shoot." He hurt terribly, but he had to stay focused until the police arrived. Abaddon kept his hands up and rolled his eyes.

"You wouldn't shoot me," Abaddon jeered, "Your morals are too high for your own good." Tintin fired a shot that grazed the Greek's cheek.

"I'm a very good shot." Tintin heard police sirens approaching quickly and sighed in relief. Abaddon tried to move away from the armed reporter, but Tintin cocked the gun again. "Don't even think about it. You're staying right here."

Soon, the police arrived and handcuffed Abaddon. They roughly shoved him into the car, driving off back to Patras. The policemen helped Tintin to his feet and carefully walked him to another car. After confirming that Tintin hadn't broken any bones, one of the policemen said, "Thank you for turning in this man. He was a threat to all of Greece. You will be rewarded for your valor."

"Thank you, but you don't need to concern yourself with rewarding me. You should really reward Naó tou Poseidó̱na; they're the ones that found him here," Tintin admitted. A third police car pulled up and, sure enough, Nileas and the rest of Naó tou Poseidó̱na filed out. Snowy jumped out of the car, ran to Tintin, and lept into his lap, licking his face. "Snowy! I'm glad to see you too!"

"Tintin! You're okay!" Nileas exclaimed. He put a hand on the reporters shoulder and sighed in relief. "And you caught Abaddon no less. You are incredible!"

"O-ow…" Tintin grinned halfheartedly. "I just did what I thought was right. Really no need to thank me."

"You may have saved all of Greece. With the information the Order of Hades has, we'll be able to prepare ourselves against the Italians. We can beat them! We will win!"

* * *

><p><strong>Alright! We're done! I'll write an epilogue soon, but the main part of the story is done. :) I'll finish Lascaux and continue writing other things and yeah! Take it easy guy~<strong>


	8. Epilogue

**Me: There you go, Tintin. A nice happy ending~ :D**

**Tintin: Phew. I'm glad. -w-**

**Me: Of course~ Only the best for my favourite character~ ^^**

**Tintin: Yaaaaay~ ;w;**

**Me: Well, you all know the speech. I don't own the Adventures of Tintin and howdy doo da. :)**

**Tintin: Happy endings~ ;A;**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

**October 31, 1940**

It was a grey morning in Marlinspike as Tintin awoke for breakfast. His wounds healed nicely. He trotted downstairs with Snowy at his heels. Nestor had set the table and served Tintin croissants, cheese, and various meats. "Thank you, Nestor," Tintin said, smiling and sitting down.

"Of course, sir. I'll bring you the paper to you straight away," Nestor said. He bowed and left the dining room. Tintin poured himself a cup of coffee and ate slowly, tossing a bit of croissant to Snowy. The little white dog devoured the bread happily. Nestor came back with the paper as a disheveled Haddock entered the room. "Good morning, sir."

"Mornin', Nestor…" Haddock grumbled. He slumped into the chair across from Tintin and rubbed his scruffy hair. "Mornin', Tintin. Lovely morning, ain't it?" He jabbed his thumb at the window.

Tintin nodded and said, "Looks like it may rain." Nestor handed Tintin the paper and exited the dining room. The reporter looked at the front cover and his eyes widened. "My God…"

"What is it, Tintin? Castafiore back in town?" Haddock asked, chuckling at his own joke as he poured a cup of coffee for himself.

"No… Naó tou Poseidó̱na failed?" He ran a hand through his hair and found a sudden interest in the tablecloth.

"What in the blazes are you talking about?" Haddock grabbed the paper out of Tintin's hands and read the headline. "'Italians Advance to Epirus and Expect to Reach Athens by December'? Ten thousand thundering typhoons! They're quite frisky aren't they?" He looked up from the paper and asked, "Tintin, what's the matter with you?"

"The Italians invaded Greece… does that mean Nileas failed? Did I fail?" Tintin rubbed his temples and sighed. Snowy whined, burying his nose in his paws.

"Come now, Tintin. There's nothing you could have done to stop those bashi bazouks. You did everything you could, and that's all God could ever ask of you," Haddock assured.

Nestor served Haddock breakfast and pulled a letter out of his inside vest pocket. "This letter came for you, Mr. Tintin, sir. It's from Athens, I believe." Tintin perked up and took the letter from Nestor, ripping it open quickly.

"What's it say, Tintin?" Haddock asked curiously, sipping some coffee. However, Tintin folded up the letter, much to the Captain's disappointment. "Well?"

"It's… it's nothing," Tintin replied, smiling in relief. "I'm going to go upstairs. Thank you again for breakfast, Nestor." Without waiting for an answer, he went to his room quickly. He unfolded the piece of paper and read the letter out loud to himself.

_Dear Tintin,_

_If you haven't heard by now, Greece was invaded by Italy. But please don't worry! Herakles, Paion, Sol, Marika, and I are quite alright and we're actually leading the revolts against the invaders. Its hard work, but it's worth every minute. We'll soon drive them out. Have no fear. Greece will be independent again soon enough._

_I do hope you are well in France and I hope the war hasn't reached your home. God knows you need a vacation after everything you went through. I wish I could say write me back, but I'm constantly on the move. _

_When all this is over, I'd like to come to France and see Marlinspike, maybe have a drink with you! I eagerly await that day. Until then, my friend._

_Sincerely,_

_Nileas Argyris_


End file.
